Irrevocably Screwed
by Tricked Wings
Summary: Everyone has problems. Some kids have kleptomania, others might have some form of schizophrenia. But Sam is sure that no problem is as bad as being thirteen and wanting your seventeen year old brother in the worst way possible. Incest is the worst possible problem. And, of course, it's Sam's. Middle/High School AU, Wincest
1. Chapter 1

Sam Winchester was screwed; completely screwed to hell.

Maybe he was born screwed, or maybe it was a recent phenomenon. Either way, he was sure that he wouldn't be able to make it to fifteen without being thrown in jail on the charges of voyeurism or something equally creepy. He was positive that Satan had reserved a special spot in Hell just for his perverted ass.

By observing those around him, Sam had come to the conclusion that most thirteen year old boys cared about video games and girls more than anything else. Not him. Granted, he'd had a crush on a girl once, in fact, he still had it, to some degree. But it was _nothing_ like his _other_ crush.

Yeah, he was most definitely, irrevocably screwed.

His brief self-loathing session was interrupted by his singular stalker, Becky Rosen. "O-M-G! Hi Sam!" She shrieked, obviously ecstatic about finding him sitting alone at his lunch table. Which was nothing out of the ordinary, he was always alone at lunch, except when his brother Dean would come over from the high school across the street and eat with his geeky little brother.

"Hello, Becky," Sam said dryly, glancing down at the ham and cheese sandwich that he had yet to touch. He liked it so much more when Dean would go through Burger King and bring him back a hamburger for lunch, but today he was stuck with a lame sandwich he'd had to make himself that morning.

"Did I tell you about the new story I'm writing?" She squealed, jumping up and down so hard that the papers flew from the stack she held tightly to chest. "Whoops!" Becky bent down and gathered up the lined notebook pages quickly, placing them back in her now disheveled stack.

Sam didn't know if Becky had told him about this recent story or not, so he used the only answer he could supply without Becky talking about something he had no clue about. "No," he said simply, continuing to study the unappetizing lunch before him. The bread was all soggy because he'd built the sandwich then had put it in a plastic bag, allowing condensation from the ham to soak into the bread. The cheese wasn't much better off; it looked rather slimy.

"It is truly _epic_!" Becky said excitedly, setting the papers down on the table in front of Sam and helping herself to a seat. "It's about a young boy who has to choose a lover, either his soulmate, who's also his brother, or the lovely girl whom he might love."

Sam's head bolted straight up, a look of alarm on his face. "What?" He shouted. The rest of the busy cafeteria glanced at him for a fraction of a second, saw it was the 'nerd-who-was-probably-gay-and-a-total-loser-and-should-go-die', and lost interest immediately, continuing to eat their lunches and talk amongst themselves. He continued, in a quieter tone, "You do realize that's incest, right?"

"He's totally going to choose the lovely girl," Becky babbled on, "The other is just for dramatic effect. Well, that, and the fact that they're brothers makes it totally hot." She opened her backpack, and Sam expected her to pull out a lunch, but instead, she just pulled out a binder stuffed full of papers, and added her current stack to the collection. "You're so going to have to read it!"

"Heh, yeah," was Sam's half-hearted reply. He really didn't feel like dealing with Becky right now, along with his soggy sandwich and thoughts about what the torture chamber for him in Hell was going to be like. Sad thing was, since Becky had written what she had written, they'd probably be forced to share a room in Hell. Great, even more torture.

"I was actually going to make a dramatic reading and post it on YouTube! Would you listen to it?" Becky asked, now pulling out a lunch bag and opening it, revealing soup and a pudding cup. Sam loved pudding cups. Today was not his day. Then again, neither was any day.

"Maybe." Sam's eyes were now flitting around the room, looking anywhere but Becky or her obnoxiously pink backpack. The boring white walls of the school were now the most intricately designed things he'd ever seen in his lifetime, and the wooden tables were now designer brands.

"I'm going to become the next B-N-F!" She said, squealing once again.

* * *

Dealing with Becky was only the beginning of his troubles.

When the bell rang indicating fourth period, Sam had only finished half of his disgusting sandwich. The half that had not made its way to his stomach found its way to the garbage can.

After bidding Becky farewell, Sam slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed to his least favorite class of the day; pre-Algebra.

Pre-Algebra was the worst class because it one, had Ruby Simon in it, and Sam never felt like dealing with her. He'd rather put up with Becky's incessant fangirling. Two, he had it the same time the high school had P.E., and he had a perfect view of the high school yard where the older teens would run laps, hot and sweaty. That, of course, was _very_ distracting, and it never helped him keep a low profile in class.

Sam wasted time in the bathroom, washing his hands for a full five minutes. He would've washed them longer, but the janitor came in and said, "You think you've wasted enough water, kid?" and kicked him out.

He dearly hoped he'd prolonged his march to the classroom long enough that Ruby would not be waiting for him right outside of the science lab, but he was wrong. She was right there, per usual, and Sam would have to ward off her advances as he trudged to math class.

"Sammy!" She called, running up behind him after he'd ignored her and walked right by.

Sam rolled his eyes, irritated that she had used Dean's, and _only_ Dean's, nickname for him. "What is it, Ruby? I'm kind of in a hurry, so if you could speed things up-"

Ruby cut him off mid-sentence. "I was wondering where you were. Anyway, to cut to that chase, since we do need to make it to class." She grasped his hand with her own, and he ignored it. This was the kind of stuff he'd come to expect from Ruby. No doubt she was gonna ask him out once again. "Do you want to go out with me?"

"I already told you," Sam said exasperatedly. "No. I like someone else." He shook her hand off of his, sticking them both in his pockets, where he hoped his hands would be safe.

"Really? And who the hell might that be?" Ruby asked, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on her hip, blocking his path. "Becky? Jessica?"

"It's 'really' none of your business." He shoved Ruby to the side and continued on to the pre-Algebra, where Ms. Milton was more than likely having a hissy fit that one of her best students wasn't there. Her face was probably as red as her hair by now.

Ruby turned back around and resumed walking beside Sam. "I think it is my business if you don't want to be my boyfriend. Or," Ruby paused, a smirk that Sam could only describe as malicious creeping onto her face. "Are the rumors true?"

"Rumors? What rumors?" He glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. What if some kid had picked up on all the crap that ran through his brain? What if he was expelled? What if the principal, Mr. Crowley, was telepathic and saw every image and stray thought that was in the back of his mind?

"Woah, don't hyperventilate," Ruby said coolly, noting the rapid increase in Sam's breathing pattern. "There have just been rumors going around that while there are girls, mainly me and _Becky_, who want you as a boyfriend, you are the one who wants a boyfriend, if you catch my drift."

Sam 'caught her drift' way too well. "I am not gay." With that, their conversation came to an end as they entered the pre-Algebra classroom, with an unhappy teacher shooting an intimidating glare their way.

"Sorry, Ms. Milton," Sam said quickly, racing to his seat beside the window. Sitting down, he spotted the P.E. class, right on schedule.

Oh yes, he was screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far. I wasn't sure how well this story would do when I first put it out there, but I can see that there are quite a few of you interested in it. So, here's another chapter for all of you.**

* * *

The same schedule had continued for the past three days. Sam would be sitting at lunch, alone, contemplating his increasingly twisted mind, then Becky would come up and tell him about the progression of her incestual literary drama. Truth be told, Sam could have really cared less, but it wasn't like she had any friends to talk to, so he allowed her to ramble on about this and that, half-listening so he could nod at appropriate moments. Ruby had approached him three more times, and three more times he had declined.

He intended on avoiding the persistent blonde altogether. That is, until Mr. Shurley paired them up for an English project. They had to write a limerick, and Sam knew he was going to get an F anyway; he was absolute crap at any projects that required any form of creative, abstract thought. Sadly, he and Ruby had to work together on this, and Ruby wanted to do something about french fries and Sam, which he thought was not creative in the least, but plain stupid. They had only briefly discussed the idea while exiting the school building before Sam had bolted and run for the shiny black Impala that was his brother's car.

This was why Sam was not at all surprised when there was a knock on the door of the small apartment Saturday afternoon. Any excuse Ruby could have to be close to him she would use to her heart's content. He glanced down at his homework, the negative numbers in front of him, staring at him with their evil little lines indicating they were below zero. It didn't take him a second to decide he'd rather put up with Ruby than negative fifty-two divided by seven.

Another sharp rap sounded its way through the living area. "I'm coming!" Sam shouted as he pushed back in his chair. He tossed his pencil on top of the paper printed with various math problems and headed to the door, not noticing the pencil roll across the table and fall to the ground with a soft thump.

Sam opened the door only to reveal Ruby, holding a Carl's Jr. bag in one hand and her backpack slung over the opposite shoulder. "I got us some French fries," she said, lifting up the bag to Sam's face for emphasis.

"Thanks, I guess," Sam replied, standing aside and inviting Ruby in. How she knew where he lived was beyond him, and it freaked him out. He was pretty sure Becky didn't even know where he lived, and she stalked him all around the school grounds.

Ruby crossed the brown carpet and made her way over to the old sofa, sitting down and throwing down her backpack beside her. "Nice place you got here." She glanced around, noticing the run-down condition of obviously old apartment.

"Yeah, it can be," Sam said, heading to sit back down in his dining chair. He hoped that Ruby would just give him half of the limerick and allow him to finish the other half himself, alone and comfortable.

"Where's your brother?"

"He's out," Sam said, staring back down at the stupid equations he was supposed to be solving. Who was so lazy that they made poor kids in school figure out their problems for them? Bill, who had only fifty-three dollars and had spent one hundred and thirty-seven before earning another sixteen, could go screw himself.

"What's he doing?" Ruby asked, moving to the dining area, along with her fries, and sitting down across from Sam. In _Dean's_ seat. He scowled. It seemed like Ruby just couldn't keep herself off of the stuff that was Dean's. His nickname that he'd had since he was little, and now the damn chair.

"I'm pretty sure he's getting groceries," Sam said, his words coming out more cold than he had intended them to. Why did she care? She was trying to replace his spot in Sam's life, anyway. Well, not exactly, considering that she wanted Sam to be her boyfriend, but...

Sam shook his head, hoping to clear his mind of any remotely arousing thoughts. He didn't need that when the girl desperate to date him was sitting not even four feet away. She'd think it had something to do with her. The thought alone made Sam grimace. Well, it could've been the thought alone, or it could've been the fact that she was now staring at him like he was the most delectable pudding cup in the world.

"What are you thinking about?" She raised an eyebrow. She might have thought what had made Sam blush a moment ago had to do with her, or she may have been questioning his sanity. Either way, Sam wasn't going to tell her anything.

"Nothing," Sam said blandly. His eyes followed Ruby as she opened the paper bag and pulled out a couple of fries, biting them and watching Sam all the while.

"Yeah, right," she said, fries still in her mouth. "You were thinking about someone you like."

How had Ruby known that? Well, she wasn't exactly spot on; "someone you like" was a complete understatement. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd say he'd fallen head over heels in love. "No, I wasn't." And that was more or less the truth.

Ruby stood up. "Please. I've seen that look enough to know." With that, she walked across the living room and started heading down the adjoined hallway.

"What are you doing?" Sam half-shouted down, turning around in his seat.

"Bathroom!" Ruby called back, and Sam could the bathroom door shut with a soft _click_.

Sam rolled his eyes and glanced out the front window where the curtains had broken last week. Dean had been meaning to fix those, but had yet to get around to it. Sam always liked watching his brother while he worked. Especially with his hands. Oh _God_, those hands...

The flushing of the toilet broke Sam's train of thought, though that was probably for the best. He heard the running of water, and he guessed Ruby was now washing her hands. Water kept running down the drain after two minutes, however, and Sam was going to go see if Ruby had died in there. Just as he was about to do so, the soft whirring of the ever-recognizable engine that belonged to the Impala sounded from outside. Dean was home.

Forgetting all about the girl who had basically invited herself over, Sam leaped out of his chair and raced towards the door, very nearly tearing it open.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, grinning. "I bought your favorite." He held four Walmart bags as he walked over to the small kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.

"You _always_ say that."

Dean ruffled Sam's hair. "Yeah, 'cause I _always_ buy something you really like." Sam backed away from his brother's hair-messing hand, and took his seat at the dining table once again.

"Homework?" Dean asked, pulling various items from the bags and placing them anywhere from cupboards to the refrigerator. Sam could've sworn he saw Dean place a half-gallon of Rocky Road ice cream in the freezer.

Rocky Road... "R". Yes, there was something with "R" that he should be remembering...

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Ruby said snarkily. Of course, Ruby. Sam briefly wondered what took her so damn long in the stupid bathroom, but anything he would've been ready to say was interrupted by Dean.

"What's she doing here, Sammy? Isn't she the bitch who's been giving you trouble for a month?" Dean had finished putting the newly purchased food away and was now leaning against the back wall of the dining area.

"Classy," Ruby said, crossing her arms and leaning against the sofa. "And I'm here because we have a project that we're supposed to be working on."

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam, asking him if this was true or not. Sam nodded, saying, "Yeah, Mr. Shurley partnered us for an English assignment. We have to write a limerick." Sam wrinkled his nose as though it was the worst possible thing anyone could ever ask of him.

"Oh, well, have fun with that." Dean got up off the wall and opened the fridge, grabbing a soda can and retreating to his bedroom. "And behave yourself, Sammy!" Sam could hear the smirk crossing his face as Dean closed the door behind him.

How could Dean leave him alone with Ruby? Sure, he'd been alone with her before his brother had gotten home, but that was only out of sheer necessity. Now he was stuck alone with her because Dean felt like being a jerk.

"Charming brother," Ruby commented casually, "I can see the attraction."

Sam's head snapped up. Someday he would do that and his head would just fling right off; he'd been doing it entirely too much lately with Becky and the discussion of her novel. "And what's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, trying to keep his tone even and calm, despite the panic begging to be freed.

There was a glint in Ruby's eye that told Sam she knew exactly what she was talking about, but she wasn't going to let Sam know that she knew what he thought she might or might not know. "Simply that I can see why _some_ people find your brother so hot. That's all I meant. Is there something more I should know?"

"No, nothing at all," Sam said, a little too quickly for his liking. Damn it, why did Ruby always bring out the worst in him? Whenever she was around, he just felt like spewing his secret perverted interests everywhere, just to keep her away from him. To let her know that he had already fallen for someone else.

* * *

Despite the fact that he'd spent all Sunday on that stupid limerick, he had absolutely nothing worth any kind of academic value. Sure, he'd written some, but they always turned into something that was definitely not school appropriate, let alone appropriate at all.

The most decent one he had was probably:

_There once was a boy named Sam_  
_Whose brain was full of spam_  
_In love with his brother_  
_Whom he desired as lover_  
_He was to be sent to Hell with the damned_

He was supposed to have been working with Ruby, but that failed, considering the fact that they could never see eye to eye on anything, let alone a freaking English project. One thing was for sure; he could not submit anything he'd written without getting expelled, or thrown in jail. Or was the punishment for incest beheading?

Sam was making his way to English, attempting to drag it out as long as possible. He shuffled along on his feet, going about as fast as a turtle. Ruby took notice of this, and, per usual, attempted to take advantage of Sam's glum state.

"Hey, Sam," she said sweetly, "You okay?"

Sam's downcast eyes shot a glance at Ruby that clearly said, 'What do you think?'

"Well, maybe I could cheer you up." She smiled, though not the sweet smile that Jess would smile whenever she would see Sam. No, Ruby's smile was something else entirely. "You want to-"

"No," Sam said, for what seemed about the billionth time in his past four years of school. "I do _not_ want to be your boyfriend."

"Well-"

"What part of 'no' do you not understand!" Sam shouted suddenly, fists balled, as he whirled around to face Ruby.

The fact that Sam's fists could very well hit her at any moment didn't seem to faze Ruby. In fact, she simply slung her backpack off her shoulder and pulled out a book that had a worn brown cover, and Sam was sure he recognized it. "Oh, I understand 'no' perfectly," she replied, malice wrought in her tone, "I also understand that 'no' can often be changed with a little... incentive."

"Incentive?" Sam asked, not quite sure what Ruby was implying.

"Incentive," she restated. "So, how about we make a pact?" She opened the book and started flipping through the pages.

Sam could see _his_ handwriting on the lined paper pages of the book, and immediately froze with fear as realization washed over him. He knew _exactly_ what that book was. "W-What kind of pact?" Sam stuttered. Whatever happened, he could not allow_ anyone_ to know what was written within the pages of that old journal.

"The kind that benefits both of us," Ruby said smiling, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary nor threatening Sam's future. "You see, if you become my boyfriend, I promise not to say anything about what's written in here." She held up the journal for emphasis.

"And if I say no?" Sam had a feeling he would never want to say no to Ruby again.

"Then I just might accidentally let something in here slip. God knows it would give Becky plenty to write about. So, what do you say?"

Nothing else mattered; he could not let the contents of that journal be revealed to anyone, ever. He took in a deep breath as he muttered, looking at the ground, "Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry for the late update; my computer was stolen and tons of shit happened, so I wasn't able to write this chapter 'til recently. Anyway, here's chapter three for ya'll. And a big thank you once again to those of you who have reviewed.**

**And yes, I had to increase the rating to M. **

* * *

Being a blackmailed boyfriend was the worst experience Sam had ever had in his thirteen years of life.

For the past month, anything Ruby wanted him to do, he _had_ to do. There was no other option. Well, there was the option of letting the entire school, and perhaps the entire _town_ know of his completely wrong, disgusting crush, but as far as Sam was concerned, that wasn't even a possible path. It couldn't be.

If Ruby wanted to hold hands on the way to every single class, Sam did that. If she wanted to push him up against a locker and bruise his lips with her own, Sam allowed her to do so, no matter how many stares and finger-pointings they got. At least the only thing anyone was saying about him was that he was with one of the "Demons" (a clique that Ruby and her twin sister, Meg, had formed), and not anything about the fact that he had almost constant sexual thoughts about a family member.

Not just any family member, either, no, life couldn't possibly give Sam a break and allow him to have a crush on his third cousin, who was at least female. No, he had to have a crush on his _brother_. Not only was that incest, but it was _gay_ incest, only proving the rumor true that Sam Winchester was, in fact, gay. Not completely gay, though, because he did have a small crush on Jessica Moore, but that wouldn't make any difference in the eyes of his classmates.

Nope. Sam was doomed to being an incestuous gay pervert for the rest of his natural life. He was probably doomed to being an incestuous gay pervert in his non-natural life, too. Yes, Hell was waiting for him. He just knew it.

Not that his life wasn't already hell, but you get the idea.

"Sammy!" Sam cringed as his name sounded throughout the hallway. He just couldn't ever catch a break with Ruby around. He dreaded turning any corner at school, lest he run into the girl and have a forced make-out session.

"Ruby!" Sam replied with fake enthusiasm, whirling around to see Ruby racing towards him. He mentally scowled, allowing himself to remember why he didn't like Ruby in the first place, and why he had orignally said no to being her boyfriend. For a brief second, he forgot why he had agreed to "go steady" with her in the first place, and contemplated breaking up with her. Then he remembered the fact that she knew the dirtiest, darkest, worst secret he had, and it all came rushing back to the front of his brain.

Just as an image of faceless students teasing him flashed through his mind, Ruby came right up to him and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a chaste, and unwanted, kiss.

"Hey, Sam," she said after she backed away. "How are you? I haven't spoken to you all day!"

"Ruby," Sam said, exasperation apparent in his voice, "I've been here for five minutes." Ruby was so _clingy_, and it annoyed the crap out of him. She couldn't allow him to be alone for one single second, for he might start looking at other girls in the school, or, God forbid, start thinking about his _brother_.

No, absolutely not. The last thing he needed was a hard-on in school before pre-Algebra. He always got turned on by watching the P.E. class do laps around the high school yard and seeing his brother, sweaty and sexy, running with them. He really didn't need it to happen beforehand when he was least expecting it and unable to hide it.

Ruby smiled. "Well, that _was _five whole minutes. Didn't you miss me?" She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and walked along beside Sam as he continued on his way to science class.

"Yeah, sure did." Sam was getting real sick of having to lie through his teeth every single day, but it couldn't be helped. If Ruby felt like she wasn't wanted, or like he was attempting to slowly push her away and break it off with her, she would spread the news of his true feelings for _someone_ _else_, namely his _brother_, around the school faster than wildfire set to a gasoline pool.

"Well, I better be letting you get to class, Sammy," Ruby said, her smile a poor attempt at being flirtatious. "See you at lunch." She gave him another kiss and with that, she headed off to her own first period class.

Sam sighed. Today was going to be a long, long day. Like every day these days.

He walked heavily to science, his earlier, remotely uplifted mood burned by the ever-lit cigarette that was Ruby. That was actually a good analogy. Ruby equals cigarette. Both were bad for your health, happiness, and overall well-being. Both also liked to be in your mouth. Sam grimaced as he took his seat.

If cigarettes and Ruby were the same, Sam knew what he had to do. When you were smoking, you had to quit if you wanted to keep on living. Screw secrets, screw the whole school knowing about his secret dirty wishes. One way or another, Sam was going to quit. He was going to quit Ruby Simon.

* * *

Sam made his way home Friday afternoon with his heart light and a lively bounce in his step that had been missing for all of March. He wasn't going to have to fake being happy at home anymore so Dean wouldn't suspect something was up at school. No, today is was legitimate, and it was going to stay that way.

The only thing that could make him happier now was if he was to walk through the door and recieve an amazing kiss from Dean. He _knew_ Dean was an excellent kisser, mainly because of the chatter from his female classmates who would get told... things by their older sisters, but all the same, Sam knew in his heart that kissing Dean would be _nothing_ like kissing Ruby.

Sam burst through the apartment door happier than he'd been in a while, and Dean, of course, took notice of Sam change of attitude.

"Who died?" He said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"What do you mean, 'who died'?" Sam asked, slightly breathless from running the last block home. He slung his backpack from his shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor by the door.

"It was a joke, bitch," Dean said, getting up from the couch and heading to the fridge, grabbing two cans of Coke.

"Jerk," Sam retorted, catching the Coke Dean tossed in his direction.

Dean opened his soda and took a drink before asking, "So, Sammy, how was school today? You seem to be in a really good mood."

"Yeah. I just broke up with Ruby," Sam said, not thinking about the fact that Dean had had no idea of their "relationship", if one could even call it that.

Dean almost did a spit-take. "What?" He asked, coughing, as he had inhaled some soda.

"Ruby and I..." Sam trailed off, realizing what he'd just said. Which wasn't good at all. Dean was going to start asking questions, like "Why would you even go out with that bitch," and "I thought you hated her", and Sam couldn't answer those truthfully. If he did, Dean would hate him, tell Dad, Dad would hate him, and kick him out after he disowned him once he finally got back from England.

Dean had obviously noticed Sam starting to panic, because he got up and walked over the middle schooler, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Sammy, I didn't mean to scare you, or whatever. I just thought you hated her." Yahtzee.

"Well," Sam said, quickly fabricating a story, "I decided that maybe the only reason she was so bad was because she really liked me, but it turned out that she was a complete control freak. It was awful."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You've been down for this past month, and I'm guessing this was what was going on. But why not break up with her after the first day, or the first week? Why'd you stay with her so long?"

Since when had Dean become friggin' Sherlock Holmes? Alibi, an incredibly hot, 'OMFG fuck me' kind of Sherlock Holmes, but Sherlock Holmes all the same. "What? I... didn't?" Was all Sam had to offer.

What was he supposed to say? "Well, she blackmailed into it because she found my secret journal full of all my secrets about you, including the wish that you, my brother, would fuck me." Try, 'no'.

"Sure," Dean said, nodding slowly. He removed his hand from Sam's shoulder and retook his spot on the couch, setting his soda can on the table across from him.

Sam could tell that Dean didn't believe him at all, and, knowing his over-protective tendencies, he was going to do all he could to get to the bottom of what waa really going on. Sam had been so worried about people at his school finding out, but now it seemed like Dean finding out was the worst. Possible. Thing.

* * *

"You don't know how much I've wanted this," Dean mumbled against Sam's neck, voice husky with arousal.

Sam was so hard; he couldn't possibly give an intelligent response. All he could do was fill his bedroom with moans as Dean lightly bit and sucked his neck.

Dean pulled away, examining his handiwork. Sam spread out on the bed beneath him, panting and moaning, begging for more. Perfect.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby boy," Dean whispered in Sam's ear. Sam had to do everything in his power not to come right there. It was all so hot, having Dean on top of him, dirty-talking, necking. Everything. He was already on edge, and he was still fully clothed, and completely untouched.

"Dean, please," Sam said, pleading. He couldn't say much else.

Dean nipped Sam's ear and said, "What? What is it you want, Sammy?" The way he said Sam's name had him even more on the brink at once.

"Please, Dean," Sam blushed, "Please, fuck me."


End file.
